


Five Times Sean Stopped Tim From Doing Something Foolish

by vanillalime



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Community: hardtime100, Community: oz_wishing_well, M/M, Murphy Appreciation Month, Some Humor, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10100786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: Well, the title says it all, really.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from LiveJournal. Written for the Murphy Appreciation Month fest at the Oz Wishing Well community. Inspired by the Hardtime100 challenge prompt "The Fool."

I.  
A shrill buzzing sound descended over the playground, cutting like a knife into the fresh warm air. Sean let go of the monkey bars and dropped to the ground. Recess was over.  
  
He weaved his way through his classmates and began to trot back toward the school. He was halfway there when his keen eyes spotted a small, solitary figure off in the distance, crouched down low in the middle of the baseball field. The field’s overgrown grass, still awaiting its first spring cut, nearly hid the figure from view.  
  
Sean slowed down to take a closer look and saw a familiar New York Knicks cap bobbing up and down above the weeds. With a sigh, he wondered what Timmy was up to now.  
  
Sean quickly changed direction and raced over to the baseball field.  
  
"Hey, Timmy!" he cried out as he reached him. "The bell rang! It’s time to go back inside!"  
  
Timmy glanced up at Sean, an excited expression on his face. He stood up and held out a handful of freshly-picked dandelions for Sean to see.  
  
"How do these look?" Timmy asked him eagerly.  
  
_They look like a bunch of weeds,_  thought Sean as he stared at Timmy’s hand.  
  
Tilting his head, Sean said, "They look all right."  
  
Timmy smiled at him. "I’m going to give them to Miss Landers before I ask her to marry me."  
  
Sean stood and stared at him. Surely, Timmy was joking. "You’re gonna what?"  
  
"When we get back inside, I’m going to ask Miss Landers to marry me."  
  
Timmy wasn’t joking. "No, Timmy, you can’t do that."  
  
"Why not?" he argued. "She’s the nicest, prettiest teacher in the whole school, and she likes me! I’ve got it all planned out—I’m going to ask her in front of the whole class."  
  
Oh, no. "You’re gonna what?"  
  
"I figure if I ask her in front of the whole class, she has to say yes."  
  
Sean wiped his hand over his face. With horror, he pictured Miss Landers awkwardly shaking her head 'no' while all the students in their class laughed at Timmy from their school desks. That mental image was quickly followed by Timmy tearfully running out of the room, still holding a bouquet of weeds in his hand.  
  
Sean put his hands on his hips. "Listen, Timmy, you can’t ask Miss Landers to marry you. It’s against the law or somethin’ to marry your teacher. It’s like marryin’ your mom."  
  
Timmy's mouth dropped open in surprise. "It is? Are you sure?"  
  
"Pretty sure." Sean's mind raced for further discouragement. "Plus, I seen Miss Landers holdin' hands with some guy in the parkin' lot last week. I think she's already got a boyfriend."  
  
"Oh," Timmy replied sadly. He dropped his dandelions down on the ground.  
  
Sean breathed a sigh of relief. "C'mon, lets get goin'. We don't wanna be late."  
  
Together, they started jogging toward the school. Timmy looked at Sean and said, "It was a nice idea, though. Right?"  
  
"Sure, Timmy," Sean replied gently. "All your ideas are nice."  
________________  
  
II.  
Sean crushed his empty brown-paper lunchbag into a ball. He located the closest garbage can and took careful aim. He gave the ball a toss and watched its graceful arc as it sailed through the air. Sean grinned as the ball landed directly in the center of the can.  
  
"Nice shot," giggled Linda as she slid into the empty seat next to Sean. "You'll make the varsity team next year for sure."  
  
"Thanks," Sean muttered self-consciously. Linda seemed awfully close. He scooted his chair a few inches away in the opposite direction.  
  
But Linda just followed him with her own chair. "Gosh, Sean," she cooed as she leaned toward him, "I just can't wait to hear you sing."  
  
Sean blinked. "What?"  
  
"You know... with your band," Linda elaborated, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. "The Manimals!"  
  
Sean cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry, Linda. I don't think that's gonna happen. We don't exactly play in front of other people," he explained.  
  
"Oh, really?" laughed Linda. "Does Tim McManus know that?"  
  
"Whataya mean?"  
  
"Tim just signed the band up for next week's Talent Show."  
  
Oh, no.  
  
Sean leapt out of his chair in a panic. He raced over the to the sign-up sheet that had been posted by the entrance to the auditorium. Sure enough, someone had written The Manimals down for the 7:30 PM slot.  
  
"Whataya think, Sean?" rang a familiar voice in his ear.  
  
Sean whirled around to face Tim. "What do I think?" he repeated. "I think you're crazy!"  
  
"Crazy like a fox! First prize is $100!"  
  
Sean wiped his hand over his face. "Listen, Tim. We can’t do this. We’re no where near ready for prime time. We're not good enough to play in front of any audience, let alone compete in a Talent Show."  
  
"Don’t sell us short, Sean! Your mom thinks we're better than The Beatles!"  
  
"That’s because she’s my mom! She also thinks that finger-painting I made in kindergarten is better than any Picasso!"  
  
"Well, anyway, it's not just about the prize money!" Tim declared with a grin. "Think of all the chicks we’ll get! I swear, once they hear you belting out  _Guardians of Love,_  they'll be lining up to surf the Murph!"  
  
Sean shook his head. "They'll be too busy laughing their asses off to surf any part of my body," he hissed, "because we're only gonna embarrass ourselves. Tony's guitar licks sound like a cat in heat, Russ is usually too stoned to keep the beat of any song, and you keep forgetting the words to  _Perversion for Profit._  There is NO WAY I'm going to get up on stage in front of the whole school with you bozos!"  
  
Sean glared at Tim until Tim finally threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "All right, all right!" he grumbled. "You win."  
  
Tim took out his pencil and scratched The Manimals off the list. Sean breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"You know what?" Tim muttered. "Someday I'm going to hold my own Talent Show, and I'm gonna make sure that everyone who wants to participate, does. No matter how good they are. Whataya think about that idea?"  
  
"That sounds great, Tim," Sean replied sarcastically. Rolling his eyes, he added, "Be sure to save me a front row seat when it happens."  
________________  
  
III.  
Under the soft glow of twinkling white Christmas lights, Sean watched the bartender pour him another beer. If he listened hard, Sean could make out the soft strains of  _White Christmas_  above the din of the pub. He sighed as he broke open another peanut shell and tossed the nuts into his mouth.  
  
Tim returned from the bathroom and signaled the bartender for his tab.  
  
"Keepin' your head clear for the little lady at home?" Sean asked him.  
  
Tim grimaced. "Not really. It's just time to call it quits. Ellie's been on my case lately about all the hours I’ve been working."  
  
"Ah," replied Sean with a nod of his head. He decided to keep his thoughts about that to himself. "You got your Christmas shopping done?"  
  
Tim shook his head. "Haven’t even started. But I got a pretty good idea what to get Ellie."  
  
"Oh, yeah? What?"  
  
"Some exercise clothes."  
  
Sean stared at him. "You’re gettin’ her _what?_ "  
  
"We don’t have a whole lot of extra money right now," Tim sheepishly explained. "We both agreed to keep things simple this year."  
  
"But… exercise clothes?" Sean said in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah, she’s really into this new aerobics craze," Tim continued. "She’s taking classes and everything. She says working out keeps her busy when I’m not home."  
  
Sean groaned and wiped a hand over his face. Ellie was an attractive woman, and she was in good physical shape. But… "Tim, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea."  
  
"Whataya mean?"  
  
"Buyin’ your wife exercise clothes is just askin’ for trouble."  
  
Tim put his hands on his hips. "No, it’s not. They’re something that she can really use. I’m sure she’ll like them."  
  
Sean shook his head. "I know I’m no expert in the woman department… "  
  
"That’s right," spat Tim.  
  
"… but I’m pretty sure that no woman, ever, wants her guy to insinuate that she needs to lose weight."  
  
"But she doesn't need to lose weight! That’s not what I’m saying!"  
  
"Maybe you ain’t sayin’ it," Sean said, raising an eyebrow, "but I bet you anything that’s how she  _hears_  it."  
  
Tim huffed and stared back at him. "Fine!" he finally snapped. "I’ll buy her some perfume and a cheap pair of earrings. That’ll be original."  
  
"Trust me, Tim. They’ll go over better than the exercise clothes."  
  
Tim threw his coat on. "I thought they were a nice idea," he grumbled as he zipped up.  
  
Sean decided to change topics. "When are you supposed to hear back from Oswald?"  
  
"Should be any day."  
  
"If they offer you the job," Sean said slowly, "you gonna take it?"  
  
Tim sighed and tossed some bills down on the bar. "I’m not sure," he replied. "We’d have to move, and it would mean longer hours, even more time away from home. I don’t know how Ellie’s gonna feel about all that."  
  
Sean took a long drink of his beer. Quietly, he said, "I think you could make a real difference there."  
  
Tim looked at him in surprise. "Yeah?"  
  
Sean nodded his head. "And if Ellie really loves you, she’ll support you in whatever you want to do."  
  
They exchanged a look, and the implications of Ellie's alternative reaction were left unspoken. Then Tim smiled sadly and slapped Sean on the back. "Have a merry Christmas, Sean," he said. He headed for the exit.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Tim," Sean replied gruffly as he watched Tim walk outside into the falling snow.  
________________  
  
IV.  
"Hey, Sean!"  
  
Following the direction of the voice, Sean looked up from the control station and saw Tim leaning over the balcony railing.  
  
"Can you come into my office when you get a chance?" Tim called out eagerly. "There’s something I want to talk to you about."  
  
There was a minimal amount of turmoil in Em City at the moment, so Sean gave him a quick nod of his head and said, "I'll be right there."  
  
With a smile, Tim disappeared back into his office. Sean heaved a sigh as he tossed his clipboard down on the counter. Tim had that unmistakable look on his face, one that was all too familiar. Sean wondered exactly what kind of idea he'd cooked up now. Nine times out of ten, Tim’s ideas for Em City were disasters. But it was that tenth idea, the one that seemed to actually work, that kept him going.  
  
Sean made his way up the stairs, ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes that followed his every move. He knew that he wasn't the only person in Em City who had grown to recognize that look on Tim’s face.  
  
For the last several days, Tim had been riding high from the surprising success of his most recent idea. They had held a pumpkin-carving contest to celebrate Halloween, and it had generated much enthusiasm and good-natured competitiveness among the inmates. Using only child-safe carving tools, the inmates had designed and created a number of exceptionally artistic jack-o-lanterns. The only mishap had come at the very end of the event, when Pancamo decided to play Headless Horseman and re-enact the climactic scene from  _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow._  
  
Even then, Poet’s concussion had been relatively mild, as far as concussions go.  
  
Sean opened the door to Tim’s office and took his usual seat across from Tim’s desk. Tim immediately started pacing.  
  
"I’ve got an idea!"  
  
Annnnnd, here we go.  
  
"So, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, the weather is getting colder…"  
  
"Uh-huh." Not that the inmates would know, since Oz has no outdoor recreation time.  
  
"And maybe the inmates will want to earn a little extra money…"  
  
"Uh-huh." As long as it doesn’t actually involve work.  
  
"While satisfying their creative urges in a controlled environment…"  
  
"Uh-huh." Uh-oh.  
  
"So, I was thinking we could start a knitting club! The inmates could make scarves, and we could sell them!"  
  
Sean sat there, at a loss for words. He tried to process the concept and immediately envisioned countless bodies stacked high in the morgue, knitting needles protruding from every possible orifice.  
  
Apparently, Sean was losing his ability to hide his thoughts, because Tim quickly narrowed his eyes and blurted, "I’m not stupid, you know. They would be using looms to knit the scarves, not needles."  
  
Sean’s vision then morphed into one where the bodies of numerous prisoners were found hanging by their scarf-clad necks or lying in their bunks after being strangled to death.  
  
Sean wiped a hand over his face. "It’s not a terrible idea, Tim," he said diplomatically. "But I’m not sure if the inmates will go for it."  
  
He gave Tim a weak smile. "Opening the dress factory up again would probably go over better than a knitting club," he joked.  
  
Tim looked at him in surprise. "You know what? I’d forgotten all about that dress factory," he said. A look of nostalgia passed over his face.  
  
Sean instantly regretted bring it up.  
  
Tim began rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Wow, Sean, that's a great idea! Forget knitting, we should start making dresses again!"  
  
Tim practically bounced toward the door. "I’m gonna go check out what condition the factory is in," he said. "You wanna come?"  
  
Sean swallowed and stood up. "No, I gotta get back to my post. It’s almost Mineo’s break time."  
  
Tim rushed out of his office, then abruptly stopped to wait for Sean to catch up.  
  
"If we get the dress factory up and running," he said to him, "maybe the prisoners could design the dresses themselves. And then we could have a fashion show!"  
  
Sean sighed as Tim took off again. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.  
________________  
  
V.  
Sean gathered the last of the items from out of his dusty locker and placed them in the box. He’d already cleaned out his office and changed into casual street clothes. He just needed to take this last box out to his car, and then he’d be all ready for the party.  
  
He heard the sound of a door open, and Sean turned around to see Tim enter the locker room, his face white and his hands shaking.  
  
"Whoa, Timmy!" exclaimed Sean with a smile. "Don’t tell me you finally seen a ghost on our last day here!"  
  
But Tim didn’t return his smile. Instead, he just sat down on the bench across from Sean’s locker and stared straight ahead.  
  
Sean pushed his box aside and sat down next to Tim. "What’s goin’ on?" he quietly asked.  
  
Tim finally looked at him. "I just found out what they’re giving us for our retirement present."  
  
"Judging by your reaction, it must be something pretty shitty," Sean observed.  
  
Tim shook his head. "No, it’s not. It's tickets for a Caribbean cruise."  
  
Sean’s eyes opened wide. "Wowwww! That’s really nice. I was expectin' a clock or some bookends or something." He tilted his head. "The cruise is for both of us?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, it’s for both of us," Tim repeated. "That’s the problem! It's a gay and lesbian cruise."  
  
Sean blinked.  
  
Tim steadied his hands by wiping them on his pants. "Apparently, the people here have been under the impression for the last several years that you and I are a couple."  
  
Sean grinned, then he began to chuckle, and then he started laughing. "How about that?" he exclaimed, slapping his leg. "I wonder how the rumor got started."  
  
"I don't know," Tim grumbled.  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if Ryan O'Reily had something to do with it," Sean declared, and he laughed even harder.  
  
"It's no laughing matter, Sean! What are we going to do?"  
  
Sean stared at him. "What do you mean, what are we going to do?"  
  
"Everyone thinks we’re gay!"  
  
"So?"  
  
"We’re just going to have to give the tickets back to them. Tell them they’ve made a mistake."  
  
"Oh no, you don’t!" exclaimed Sean. "I want to go on that cruise! I bet we’ll have a helluva good time! And, God knows, we deserve a nice vacation after all the blood, sweat, and tears we’ve put into Oz over the years."  
  
"But, Sean…"  
  
"Tim, who gives a shit if the people here think we’re gay? When five o’clock rolls around, we’re outta here. For good."  
  
They stared at each other for a long time. Sean’s smile grew bigger and bigger, until Tim finally broke down and smiled back.  
  
Tim stood up. "I’ve never been to the Caribbean," he said softly.  
  
"Neither have I," echoed Sean. He picked up his box. "Here, come with me while I take this out to my car. Then we’ll come back in and head to our party."  
  
Tim nodded his head, and together they walked toward the exit.  
  
As Tim held the door open for Sean, he mumbled, "All these years, we thought we were so discreet. For nothing."  
  
Sean just laughed again and walked out the door, with Tim following right behind him.  
________________  
  
THE END


End file.
